


Winter Comes Not With Pique

by Anonymous_Ostrich



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Because of course he does, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Q has a solution for the cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich
Summary: A beautiful winter planet, a big comfy blanket and warm, reluctant confessions in the snow.Written for the 2017 Qcard Big Bang





	Winter Comes Not With Pique

The sky was too gray and thick with clouds to see the sun.

A crisp chill settled over Picard's skin, kissing the warmth away, pressing a flush of rose onto his exposed flesh. Trees heavy and sagging with snow peppered the horizon, standing stark against the dull leaden-blue backdrop, framing the hills of snow that spread as far as the eye could see. Gentle snowfall made the sky glisten, a sparkling sheen, the crystallized droplets falling softly onto Picard's head and shoulders, melting on contact. It was a picture of quiet beauty, an artful blanket of snow and ice wrapped in serenity.

Picard was having a difficult time seeing the beauty in it.

For a time, Picard said nothing. It was on principal, mostly, but he also worried that the first thing out of his mouth would be a slew of unflattering curses that didn't quite befit the scene he'd been involuntarily introduced to. Experimentally, he tapped his combadge and called for the  _Enterprise_ , for any crewman who might hear him, but as he'd assumed, silence was his only answer. He hadn't really expected a reply, but he'd be a fool not to attempt it. Picard ran his hand over his head, swiping away the cold wetness that had begun to accumulate there and heaved a heavy sigh, his breath leaving his lips in an icy cloud. The urge to rub warmth into his arms made his hands twitch, but it was much too soon to look as though the cold were bothering him.

Picard glanced around, taking note of his immediate surroundings. There wasn't much to see, honestly. Snow and lush pine trees in every direction, and a mountainous region to his left with an almost visible timberline. There, now at least he had an objective. Mountains offered shelter from wind and snowfall and, if he was very lucky, accessible caves. It was a starting point. It was  _something_ , and he needed to get moving as soon as possible to generate as much heat as he could. The insulation his uniform provided was only going to last him so long, and he was already beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.

Pulling his feet from the snow was a challenge. The snow rose to his calves, easily thirty centimeters tall, so each step was a labor in of itself. He felt ridiculous really, trudging and stomping along the otherwise undisturbed snowy terrain in such an inelegant manner, but there was really no helping it. The mountain was his best chance, shelter was his top priority. Then he could begin to look for wood and flint, hopefully get a fire going, (though he remembered with grim reluctance that his fire-making skills were hopelessly underwhelming,) and then he could think about how to get himself out of this situation. Perhaps he could whittle some small, crude tools to help boost the signal of his combadge. He'd used similar tricks before, and in tighter spots than this. At the moment, it was the only thing he could think to try.

It became apparent very quickly that he was not getting any closer to the mountain.

At first Picard wanted to believe it was some sort of optical illusion caused by the seemingly endless expanse of white that made it difficult to focus on his objective for too long without needing to rest his eyes, but he knew better.

Picard stopped walking, taking a moment to lean on his knees and catch his breath. His chest expanded heavily, dragging freezing air into his taut lungs. He chanced glancing behind him and uttered a frustrated laugh through slightly chattering teeth. For all the walking he'd done, there were no footprints to show for it. He was in the exact spot as when he'd started.

He stood up straight, glaring up at the sky. "Enough of this, Q! If you have something to say, just say it! Or would you have me freeze to death first?"

The familiar swishing sound that accompanied Q's arrival sounded from behind. "Oh come now, I'm sure your survival skills are more than adequate. You would starve to death long before you froze."

Picard stifled a scoff. "If you won't allow me to  _move from this spot_ , I rather think my survival skills are useless in this case."

Q sighed heavily. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask for my help?" he asked curiously.

"No." Picard turned to regard Q who was dressed in his usual command red, four pips gleaming on his collar, his head slightly tilted and his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Annoyingly, he was standing atop the snow, not sinking an inch, forcing Picard to look up even more than he usually needed to. "I don't need your help, Q, but I will ask that you allow me to move as I please."

Q stared down at him for several moments with an unreadable expression, his eyes dark as coal. It took everything Picard had to keep from trembling from the cold but he refused to show Q that his ploy was working. Q finally rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Fine. You want to trek all the way to that mountain all by yourself, who am I to stop you?" With an exaggerated flourish, Q gestured to the mountain. Picard shot him a look that could sharpen diamonds, tightened his jaw and began again, stomping off along the same path he'd taken before.

Despite his insistence that he didn't need or want Q's help, Q followed along in silence, his arms behind his back, taking light steps over the snow and casually observing the scenery as though they were merely sharing a pleasant stroll through a winter wonderland. Picard resolutely ignored him, choosing to approach the whole situation as though Q were not present. Q would tire of the game eventually. The more Picard engaged him, the longer this would drag out, he was certain of it, and he was equally certain that in the end, Q would not truly leave him here to fend for himself. Q wanted a reaction from him, he wanted to see discomfort and desperation, but he wasn't going to get either. Eventually he would lose interest.

They walked in silence for well over twenty minutes. Picard's throat was burning, his lips were beginning to crack and his ears, nose, fingers and toes were completely numb. The top of his head felt like it was covered in a layer of solid ice, but he gave no outward indication of his discomfort. He pressed on, focusing only on his goal, trying to ignore Q's pleasant but incessant humming.

And then he came to a full stop, his heart dropping with a sick plop into his stomach. Somewhere to the right of him, Q stifled a giddy chortle.

The mountain was farther off than he'd originally thought, but the added distance was not the reason for Picard's sudden dread, nor Q's smugness. (Though Q never needed a reason to be smug.) It was the sudden drop-off Picard hadn't been able to see before he set out, the drop-off that he now stood beside that descended sharply into a deep, wide valley littered in trees and swollen with snow. Through all the blinding white, it had been impossible to see until he was looking right at it.

"I  _tried_ to stop you, you know," Q pointed out, moving in close to Picard's side. "If you  _really_ want to reach that mountain, it's only a six day hike around the valley."

His only plan already having fallen to pieces, Picard rounded on Q with an impatient snarl, unable to hide the way his teeth clacked together. "I'm growing very tired of this game, Q. Just tell me what you want of me and be done with it."

Q's expression betrayed trace amounts of vexation. He glanced away, brows raised and lips pursed. "You know what I want. You could end this all  _right now_  if you'd just  _admit_ -"

"I won't," Picard cut him off, "And frankly, the lengths you are willing to go just to drag useless confessions out of me is simply garish. I refuse to play into it. And if you think you can bully me into indulging your every whim, you should know by now that it doesn't work."

" _Bully_  you?" Q repeated, affronted. "Is that what you think this is?"

"What would you call it?" Picard demanded crossly. "Dropping me here in this place with a decidedly inhospitable climate, putting me in a position where I suffer if I don't comply to your demands?"

Q's jaw locked and released, his eyes flicking away in consideration. A moment later they shifted back to hold their stony gaze on Picard, watching him with indiscernible intent. His lips curled. "Interesting." he said. In a diamond of light, a large, thick gray blanket dropped into Q's arms, and he began shaking it out, laying it over the snow as though they were about to have a picnic. "How about this," he continued once the blanket was in a suitable position for two persons to sit on it and bundle up, "you sit here with me, warm yourself up, and if you feel like saying - or admitting to - anything in particular, I'll take you back to your precious ship."

"And if I say nothing and decide to simply pass the time in silence?" Picard challenged.  
  
Q leveled him a reluctant glare. He sat himself down on the blanket. "Then I suppose I'll take you back regardless, won't I? Else I get the feeling I won't be hearing the end of it anytime soon."

Picard glowered down at the blanket, annoyed at himself for imagining how warm and comfortable it would feel to be wrapped up in it, his body betraying just how frozen he was. He was cold and weary and tired of fighting, and as he wasn't privy to the suggestion of hiking around the valley, Picard realized grimly that he was left with only one option. Q could see his resignation in his posture and pulled back a flap of the blanket invitingly, his mouth quirking in a grin.

There was no use refusing, Picard just wished Q hadn't looked so pleased with himself. With a long-suffering sigh Picard lowered himself into the welcoming folds of the blanket, warmth immediately washing over his frozen limbs like a wave. Of  _course_ this blanket was the warmest, coziest blanket he had ever bundled himself up in. Picard relaxed into it, pulling the thick material up around his shoulders. Even though his head was still exposed to the elements he could feel the cold melting away, feeling returning to his nose and his lips and his ears and even the top of his head. In moments, he was warmer and more comfortable than he ever remembered being in his life.

"Comfortable?" Q asked with damnable timing, reminding Picard to straighten his shoulders and look as unimpressed as possible.

"I'd be more comfortable on my own ship," Picard grumbled, a statement that was only partially true. He would prefer to leave this place, of course, but he doubted he would be more comfortable anywhere else just at the moment.

"In time,  _mon capitaine_. Until then, let's just relax and enjoy the scenery, shall we?"

And so they did.

Now that he had a chance to soak it in, Picard realized this planet - or dimension, or illusion, anything was possible with Q - was truly beautiful, like something out of those old-fashioned Christmas cards that were so trendy to send friends and relatives during the holidays. The soft snow drifted lazily down around them, the serene beauty that had gone ignored earlier showcasing itself in perfect clarity now that Picard could comfortably breathe it in. The sky was growing a deep shade of blue, some of the clouds clearing away, sparkling intermittently with trillions of descending snowflakes.

"What is this place?" Picard asked, unable to stop himself.

Q hummed in satisfaction. "Toma JP-8. A planet roughly 150 light years from whence you came. An icy planet with a sun that's just a tad too far away to sustain animal life, but on the plus side, it makes for breathtaking scenery. Wouldn't you agree?"

Picard grunted. "A little cold,"

"Well, nothing's perfect. Besides, the blanket is  _quite_ warm enough for us to enjoy it."

"For  _me_ to enjoy it, you mean." Picard pointed out. "There's only one of us here who is adverse to the cold."

"Which is why I have been so thoughtful as to provide you with a blanket," Q quipped, inching closer. Picard matched his distance but in the other direction. "You should be thanking me, really."

" _Thanking_  you?" Picard repeated incredulously. "If you believe I should  _thank_ you for dumping me onto an arctic planet 150 light years away from my ship without my permission, then perhaps the cold is affecting you after all."

Q blew an impatient sigh through his lips. "You know, sometimes I think it might be easier to rewrite the universe so as to arrange for the precise set of conditions to nurture you into a more agreeable man than to expect a single kind word out of you." The entity closed off the distance between them again, but this time Picard had nowhere to escape unless he wanted to roll out of the safety and warmth of the blanket and back into the freezing snow, which was honestly proving more tempting by the second. "Do you really hate me that much?" Q asked him, his voice low and husky, his eyes intensely and unblinkingly focused on Picard's, burning straight through him. "Is the thought of being here with me really so repugnant?"

The question rang a shade more sincere than Q's usual inquiries, though Picard wasn't certain if he was imagining it or not. Under the blanket, Q's knee knocked gently into his own, the close proximity of his body radiating even more precious heat. Picard realized Q must have been conjuring up false body heat just for the scenario. Q never felt this warm, and Picard had no shortage of experience with Q's disregard for personal space.

Picard swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat and attempted to give Q the same level of eye-contact he was being awarded, but it was difficult to traverse those dark, smoldering eyes without immediately wanting to look away for fear of getting lost in them.

"Q, why are you  _really_ doing this? All because I-" he trailed off, his gaze slipping from Q's when his omnipotent companion's expression almost began to glow with anticipation. "I don't enjoy being toyed with. I have a distaste for the way you use your powers like a weapon to bend others to your will, that will never change."

"You just can't say it, can you?" Q demanded crossly. He moved even closer, his hand finding Picard's under the blanket and clasping it in his almost possessively. Picard's mechanical heart stuttered in his chest. "You can't bring yourself to admit that you like having me around. So I have to hear it from  _Riker_ of all people. Riker!" He barked a scornful laugh. "I almost might have preferred it if  _Worf_ told me."

"You were eavesdropping, Q, you weren't told anything!" Picard exclaimed, a new and unwelcome rush of heat claiming his neck, jaw and cheeks.

"I fail to see the difference," Q replied with a frown.

Picard sighed, trying and failing to pull his hand away from Q's. "The difference is that you received the information without permission. And out of context.  _Largely_ out of context."

"Is that so?" Q quirked a brow, his mouth tugging into a devious smile. " _The Captain has never been a friend to Q, but lately I almost think he_ misses  _him_ ," Q began in a perfect approximation of Riker's voice that was equal parts impressive and unsettling, " _Ever since his near-death experience, their relationship has become much less... adversarial. As strange as it seems, I think the Captain likes having Q around, so long as he's not turning the ship upside down_."

Picard made a mental note to sit Will down at a later time and firmly remind him to mind his own damn business. "Q, that's-"

"I could do Counsellor Troi's rebuttal as well, if you'd like. She went on this long-winded but  _incredibly_ informative speculation on my own interest in you, which may or may not have included a Venn diagram of my various 'spectrums'."

"No, thank you, and I'll ask that you stop listening in on conversations of which you are not a known participant."

"When you're omnipotent, you're a participant in every conversation that has ever happened. It comes with the title."

Picard sighed hugely, thinking perhaps he'd dismissed the whole 'hike around the valley for six days' idea a little prematurely. With his free hand he rubbed his brow in irritation. "What would you have me say?"

Q moved even closer, ghosting his breath over the shell of Picard's ear. "The truth," he said, his voice as drifting and soft as the falling snow but tinged with all the menace to be found in an ice storm. "Since our very first meeting I have been nothing but honest with you, Jean-Luc, even when my truth wasn't agreeable to you. All I ask is that you grant me the same consideration."

"Lies of omission are still lies," Picard pointed out, his voice barely rising above a whisper. It was hard to think with Q so close and so warm and so  _demanding_.

"If that's so, then you're lying to me right now. Lying through your  _teeth_ , I'd say."

It felt distinctly as though Picard's mouth were filled with cotton. The annoying bit was, Q had a point, misguided though it was. Picard was not in the habit of denying credit where credit was due, but even so it was hard to fathom admitting to something so utterly unflattering. Part of him wondered if Q was doing all this just to humiliate him, to keep it and wave it smugly over his head as a victory until the end of his life. The silly mortal had grown reluctantly fond of Q's presence! Perhaps in the Continuum, that sort of conquest was very fashionable. Like a hunter mounting the head of his kill on a wall.

Still, there was nothing for it now. The cat was out of the proverbial bag, and continuing to deny it was only going to prolong the situation.

"You'll really return me to my ship if I tell you what you want to hear?" Picard asked, moving away enough to look Q in the eyes. Under the blanket, Q's hand clenched around Picard's a little more tightly.

"Yes. But," Q pointed a finger in the air, "I'm only interested in the  _truth_ , Jean-Luc."

Picard breathed a deep sigh through his nose, his chest surging with a combination of shame and unexpected exhilaration. Q sat back, giving him a little more breathing room, though his knee had managed to find a comfortable spot under Picard's thigh, and his hand was still grasping Picard's own.

"Fine." Another sigh, just to prepare himself for the mockery that was undoubtedly to follow his words. "I've grown…  _used_ to you, I suppose. When you're behaving halfway decently, your presence is stimulating. We push each other, and I admit it isn't always disagreeable for me to be pushed or to do the pushing. You've shown me things… done things for me that have yielded you no rewards that I can see, but helped me tremendously. And I…  _appreciate_ it. You. Having you around on occasion, that is."

The silence that followed was strangely serene, only the falling snow and the faint sound of tree limbs creaking under the weight of their frosty burden to answer him. Any moment now he expected a mocking guffaw or a sinister promise to wash the universe in the shame of Picard's silly admission, but after several moments when nothing of the sort came, Picard chanced glancing at Q for explanation.

Q's eyes burned through him like hot coals, glimmering with something foreign Picard had never seen there before. His lips tugged into a smile, crinkling the corner of his eyes, his dark hair frosted white from the snow. Picard swallowed again, disturbed by the sheer enormity of fondness that seemed etched into Q's features.

"Was that so hard?" Q finally said, his hand squeezing Picard's with what now seemed like affection, his fingers finding the gaps between Picard's own and slipping into them. Picard's bionic heart was beating a pattern into his ribs, but somehow he felt content enough to curl his fingers around Q's, squeezing him back.

"This might have been much easier if you hadn't made me hike through ice and snow first."

Q snorted. "Are you kidding me? You almost went to live in the  _mountains_ rather than just answer my simple inquiry, Picard. If you'd had it your way, you'd be there by now, putting your survival skills to the test."

In retrospect, Picard supposed it seemed a little silly. "The valley that impeded my progress, am I correct in assuming you had something to do with that?"

Q rolled his eyes. "If I hadn't, there would have been no stopping you. Your pride will be your downfall,  _mon capitaine_."

"I rather think your incessant meddling will be the end of me long before my pride gets the chance."

Q's smile grew. Their hands still joined, he re-positioned himself behind Picard, pulling him snugly against his chest while simultaneously bundling them up more tightly in the blanket, drawing it up around their necks. Picard allowed it, though he wasn't sure what compelled him to go along with it all. It was because Q was so warm. Surely that was the only reason.

"I'm not sure admitting that I  _tolerate_ you constitutes… whatever this is." Picard said softly.

"Cuddling. It's called cuddling, Jean-Luc."

"Now that you've gone and said it out loud, it seems even more strange."

Q shhed him. Picard chuckled.

"What of taking me back to my ship?" he asked curiously. "You said you would, if I told you what you wanted to hear."

He could feel Q grinning against his ear. "I lied," Q murmured provocatively, pulling their clasped hands against Picard's chest.

Picard couldn't prevent a smile from creeping up on him. "Well. So long as you take me back eventually, I'd argue you haven't lied about anything."

"Ah, but you  _could_ argue that it was simply another lie of omission," Q teased gently.

"I could, I suppose." Picard answered softly, leaning back into Q's warmth, allowing himself a rare moment of contentment. Q wrapped his other arm around Picard, firmly caging him in his arms and pressing a hot, possessive kiss to the side of his neck, nuzzling the warmed, flushed skin with his lips.

"But you won't," Q murmured confidently, quietly, smiling against the gentle thump of Picard's pulse.

He still wasn't sure what to make of all this, he wasn't certain whether or not Q intended to ever acknowledge this conversation once their time on this wintery planet came to an end. At the moment, it didn't particularly matter. As they sat together wrapped up in Q's magical blanket watching the snow fall, it all felt strangely unending, like their time here together was frozen in the snow. The thought of it was strangely satisfying.

Picard grinned lazily, putting aside the sheer lunacy of the situation in favor of Q's intoxicating warmth and the breathtaking beauty of the shimmering winter landscape. Q was right, but he didn't want to admit it. He'd conceded to quite enough today.

Winter was only beautiful when one was warm enough to enjoy it, he decided.

**Author's Note:**

> I took great pains to slim this prompt down to an acceptable word count, lol. Don't worry though, the bits I took out/changed weren't needed and really added nothing of value, so very little was lost lmao
> 
> This was so fun! I got [”Winter is Coming”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7759687/chapters/27063393) by iscalox, so if my artist is reading this, I hope this is close to what you were imagining when you drew it! :3 I changed the title because I didn't want to confuse this snowy Qcard prompt with GoT lol
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know you enjoyed! ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ


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